


Concerto

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, They're all Musicians, everyone is human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek steps in the door to the coffee shop and sighs. He would swear that Stiles was following him, only <em>he</em> keeps being the one showing up to places the guy was already at. Last week it had been pizza with his uncle. There were a hundred pizza places in the city. What were the odds?<br/>-<br/>Orchestra AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concerto

“His fucking _arms_ during the Bach. Jesus FUCKING Christ.” Stiles is banging his head on the table in front of him.

“Well, that explains why you missed your cue twice.”

“Not helpful, Scott.” Stiles voice is muffled by the table. “He's going to be the death of me.”

“Obsessing over Hale again?” Isaac's voice is smug as he straddles the chair backwards and settles his cappuccino on the table.

“Shut up, Isaac.” Stiles is still talking into the table. “I don't see you asking Jackson out.”

Isaac darts a glance over to where the trumpet first chair is holding court, before sighing. “You also don't see me obsessing over him.”

“You knocked over your stand when he stretched.”

Isaac narrows his eyes at Scott. “I was lightheaded from the damned Schumann.” He sighs. “It's murder for horns. My lips are still numb. That piece is completely kicking my ass.”

“Just like I'm going to if you don't return my Shostakovich CD.” Erica nudges Scott over, blowing on her plain black cup of joe. “I _need_ to listen to that Timp part.”

“Man did you _see_ Lydia playing that today? She's _incredible_.” Scott's voice is full of awe.

Stiles lifts his head to laugh. “Now who's obsessing? That's why she's first chair, dude.”

“You all are pathetic.”

“Boyd! Heard you got the solo.” Stiles offers him a fist bump, which he returns after giving Stiles a flat, I-only-do-this-to-humor-you look. And then Stiles' eyes go comically wide and he squeaks as he sees the object of his affections over Boyd's shoulder.

“Fuck, there he is, hide me.” Stiles flails and Isaac rescues his drink from the brink of extinction.

“Stiles, you're an idiot.”

-

Derek steps in the door to the coffee shop and sighs. He would swear that Stiles was following him, only _he_ keeps being the one showing up to places the guy was already at.

Last week it had been pizza with his uncle. There were a _hundred_ pizza places in the city. What were the odds?

It already takes all his concentration not to think about those long fingers that dance along the oboe during rehearsal.

Naturally Stiles at that moment gestures wildly, and Derek can't help but glance over there. God, his _FUCKING_ hands.

Derek's not obsessed, he admires them that's all. He absolutely does not think about them wrapped around –

“Hale!”

Derek starts in surprise, and raises a hand to acknowledge Jackson's greeting. Jackson waves him on over and he nods, paying for his hot chocolate first.

The trumpeter introduces him around. “Derek Hale, Cello.” Derek extends a hand to the redhead beside him. “Yeah, Lydia and I met at auditions.” She squeezes his hand and the re-wraps it around her caramel confection. “The Shostakovich sounded great today.”

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes, “Except the damned percs fucking up every. single. time. I swear if Argent doesn't smack some shit into them, I'm going to play the damn part myself.”

The dark-haired girl extends her hand. “Allison.” She darts a quick glare at Lydia. “ _Argent_. Bassoon.”

Derek nods. “That's right, you were on the end.” _Behind Stiles._

They have one more join them, and she plops down without a drink and buries her head in her folded up arms. “My life is over.”

Allison reaches out and strokes her hair. “Sa matter, babe?”

“I'll give you three guesses.” Kira doesn't lift her head up.

“He picked the Prokofiev, didn't he?” Allison sighs. “Hey, you'll do great. You're the best flautist I've ever heard.”

Kira lifts her face up and smiles at Allison.

Derek sneaks a glance to the side, and catches Stiles looking at him.

He flashes a quick smile and then ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning red.

-

“I think I'm having a heart attack.”

“What's the matter?” Scott sounds worried.

“He _smiled_ at me,” Stiles hisses in a stage whisper.

“Are you twelve years old, Stilinski? Just ask him out.”

“Right after you ask Jackson.” The amber eyes are narrowed at Isaac.

Isaac looks down and away because he can't say anything, because Jackson doesn't want this to be a _thing_ , just some random hook ups from time to time.

Isaac's okay with that, he really is. He just wishes he could tell his friends.

 

Erica sets Scott's phone down in front of him. “That's one down.”

Scott squawks and puts his hand in his pocket, where his phone is definitely not, because it's on the table. Then he reaches for it and quickly opens the messages.

“Holy shit.”

Stiles turns to Erica. “How did you know his passcode?”

“I pay attention.” She winks and then curls back into Boyd's side.

“I have a date tomorrow night. With Lydia.” Scott obviously can't believe it. He looks up across at Lydia, and Stiles follows his gaze.

To look at Lydia, of course. Not to ogle Derek Hale. Definitely not.

He feels the fingers in his pocket and clamps down on Erica's wrist.

“Oh no you don't.” Stiles gestures menacingly with his free hand.

Isaac's drink finally succumbs to the inevitable and flies across the table, dousing its owner.

“Dammit, Stiles.”

-

Jackson finds him in the bathroom. He leans arrogantly against the wall and watches Isaac try to remove the coffee with the shit paper towels they have in this place.

“I'm _sure_ I have something at my loft that would look good on you.”

It's a line, of course it is, it's _Jackson_.

Isaac arches a brow and pretends he's thinking it over. He's not fooling either of them.

Jackson stalks forward and slides his fingers through the golden curls, tugging Isaac downward for a soft, lingering kiss.

“Get your ass in my car, Lahey.”

Isaac goes.

-

“Do they think they're fooling anyone?” Lydia glowers into her whipped cream.

“Hm?” Derek has no idea what's going on.

“Isaac and Jackson.” She points with her chin as they drive off in Jackson's Porsche. Derek watches a moment. “They're...?”

“Yeah. Poor Isaac. Jackson's a dick.” She grabs her drink and pushes off from the table.

“Also, now I can't go home. McCall!” Her voice cuts across the shop and everyone is staring at her. Most intently - a pair of wide big brown puppy dog eyes. “You're taking me bowling.”

She gives Kira and Allison hugs goodbye. “I'll see you at morning rehearsal. Derek, work on that third passage in the Bach, please.”

Derek arches a brow and watches her go, with Scott tagging along in her wake.

He can't help but chuckle as Scott mouths something to his best friend. _I'm a terrible bowler._

He turns back to see Allison and Kira lost in each other.

“I'm just gonna...go now.”

There's no answer.

-

Stiles is once again back on his favorite subject, lecturing Boyd and Erica on Derek Hale.

“I hate his stupid eyebrows.”

Boyd nudges Erica, and they both watch Derek walk up behind their table.

Erica leans in. “You hate Derek's eyebrows?”

Boyd rolls his eyes at her.

“Yes, they're sexy as hell, and I hate them. I hate his arms too. It should be _illegal_ to have arms like that.” Stiles is off on full rant now, Erica isn't even trying to hide her smirk.

“And that asshole is so fucking smart. Did you know that he has three degrees? _Three_?! One's in computer fucking science! On _top_ of being completely gorgeous and fucking _brilliant_ , this asshole has to be talented as shit. He played the hell out of that new piece today, and I know for a _fact_ that he was sight-reading the second half.”

“Oh?” Erica is all innocence.

“Yeah, he gets this little furrow in his forehead, and his nose wrinkles up when he's concentrating...”

“Well that was educational.” The voice is soft, from over his shoulder.

Stiles yelps and knocks the table, which would have fallen if not for Boyd's quick reflexes.

Stiles stares at Derek for a second, then turns and hisses at the blonde percussionist.

“Erica, you are the worst friend ever, and I hate you for life.”

Erica whispers to her boyfriend. “I think that's our cue.”

 

Stiles smiles brightly at Derek.

“Sooooo, that wasn't what it seemed. Not in the least. At all. We haven't been properly introduced. Hi, I'm Stiles Stilinski.” He offers his hand.

Derek slides his hand into the offered one, glancing down at the long fingers that curl around it. It doesn't take a stretch of the imagination to put them somewhere else, and he abruptly lets go, settling himself into the seat across from Stiles.

“Anything else you hate about me?” Derek takes a sip of his cocoa and looks up.

“Your eyes. They're completely unfair. I could lose myself in them, and you're an asshole for having them.”

“Eyes?” Derek can't help but laugh. He's never met anyone in his life like Stiles.

“Absolutely.” Stiles nods. “In fact, you should totally take me to the new Captain America movie to make up for it.”

The cellist arches a brow. “You haven't seen that yet?”

Stiles shrugs. “Once or twice or six times.”

Derek shakes his head. “How about I take you to dinner, and we'll put the movies on hold til Guardians comes out.”

Stiles beams and it lights up the room. Derek can't help but respond in kind.

“It's a date.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: Symphony No. 1 in D Major, Op. 25, "Classical": IV. Final: Molto Vivace
> 
> Please let me know if I need to tag anything. <3
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


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